


Shark Week

by n_a_feathers



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, coldflashweeks2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 16:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_a_feathers/pseuds/n_a_feathers
Summary: “Hey mister, want some company?”“Not tonight, kid,” Len says quickly, dismissively, not breaking his stride, “It’s shark week.”For Day 6 of ColdFlash Week: Stripper/Prostitute/Kept Man AU





	Shark Week

**Author's Note:**

> Set around 2006 in an AU where Barry ended up in a home instead of with Joe.

 

 

“Hey mister, want some company?”

 

Len is just leaving Saints and Sinners when a kid calls out to him from across the street. It’s not an uncommon occurrence and Len has partaken of services offered before but the prostitutes are usually female in this area of town. With the proliferation of conservative Italian and Russian mobsters around, the kid’s likely to get himself in trouble if he propositions the wrong person.

 

That’s not Len’s problem though.

 

“Not tonight, kid,” he says quickly, dismissively, not breaking his stride, “It’s shark week.”

 

“So what?” the kid yells at his back. “Sharks and blowjobs are mutually exclusive?”

 

“What?” Len is momentarily taken aback by the kid’s audacity and he can’t stop himself turning and seeing exactly who would use a line like that to proposition someone.

 

He’s gangly and on the wrong side of young. He’s still fairly clean – his body and clothing both – so if he’s living on the streets it’s undoubtedly a recent development. Probably would explain why he’s lippier than he should be too. He does have a nice mouth though and Len can admit to himself that he wouldn’t mind seeing it stretched around his cock.

 

He takes a few steps towards the would-be rent boy and can’t help but notice he sways backwards as if he wants to retreat but ultimately doesn’t. His hands are stuffed deep into the pockets of his pants and he scuffs his canvas sneakers against the sidewalk to disguise his earlier instinct to flee.

 

Len asks, “Have you done this before?”

 

“Yes,” he’s quick to reply. His voice falters though, and is too insistent to be anything but a lie.

 

He hasn’t.

 

He wouldn’t be the first street hooker to lie about this, that and the other though. It’s not a deal breaker for Len.

 

“Come on then.”

 

He starts to walk off but stops when he doesn’t hear footsteps following. The kid, showing the first hint of fear Len has caught on him so far, is frozen on the spot like a deer under a spotlight.

 

His mouth works wordlessly for a second – and Len realises that maybe he hadn’t planned as far ahead as someone actually accepting his proposition – before he blurts out, “You need to tell me what you want and where we’re going first,” the words tumbling out of his mouth like they’re being rolled down a steep and rocky hill.

 

Kid’s not so dumb after all. Len isn’t surprised: there’s an intelligence in his eyes that’s unmistakable. Sometimes that doesn’t always equate to street smarts though.

 

“We go back to my place, watch some shark week. If that gets boring, you can blow me. If you want, you can sleep on my couch. Save yourself from a night on the streets or the cost of a hostel. Does that work for you?”

 

“Blowjob’s $40. Upfront,” he adds as an afterthought and Len almost feels a twinge of misplaced pride towards the kid for figuring things out so quickly and obviously on the fly.

 

Len digs out his wallet and counts out the bills, hands them over. The kid turns into the light from Saints and Sinners’ neon sign and double-checks what he’s been handed, then shoves it into his back pocket.

 

“Lead the way,” he says, gesturing magnanimously in front of them. Len begins the walk back to his apartment with the kid trailing behind him. For a while their footsteps are the only sounds breaking the midnight hush, that is, until the kid starts talking. “I’m Barry by the way. What’s your name?”

 

“None of your business.”

 

“I’ve never actually watched shark week. I’ve heard about it though. I never got to watch nature stuff at the—” Barry cuts himself off. Len knows he was about to stay _the home_ , had cut himself off in the exact same way in his younger years when he cared too much about what coming from a home or having been in juvie would make other people think of him. “I like that kind of stuff though. Nature, and science. Nerdy stuff. The other kids just wanted to watch drama or comedy or whatever.” Len kicks himself for not realising sooner that Barry would talk nonstop when he’s nervous. “You look a lot like that guy on that show. You know the one?”

 

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

 

“Just shark week.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

 


End file.
